


Bruises

by NinjaWolfBaby



Category: The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Lenoard Snart Threatens People, Leonard Snart Doesn't Know Barry Allen is The Flash, Leonard Snart Has a Heart, Leonard Snart is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Mick Rory is So Done, Mick Rory knows Things, Misunderstandings, Mostly Himself, Past Child Abuse, Protective Leonard Snart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaWolfBaby/pseuds/NinjaWolfBaby
Summary: Leonard keeps running into a beat up kid at the convenience store.Feelings ensue.Barry just wanted some food after that last battle, why does this have to be his life?





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone knows about Barry's super healing... and Len's extreme distaste for abusers. So, over a year ago, I made myself laugh really, really hard at the thought of Len misunderstanding all those post-fight bruises on Barry which would now look a few weeks old. And then this mess was born. Enjoy.

The first time he notices the kid, it's an hour after battling the Flash. High on a successful hit and a worthy opponent, Snart nearly misses the gangly 20-odd boy at the gas station. He shouldn't have noticed him, except… well. The kid had five large pizzas balanced in one hand, while the other swiped up hoards of chips and candy. It was, to be fair, oddly distracting. But a partying college student was hardly cause for the way his eyes narrow, frowning at the livid bruise high on one cheekbone. That's one hell of a black eye, even a couple days old and fading like it is. He's moving stiffly too, like every muscle in his thin body is aching, though multiple layers cover any damage from Leonard's eyes. 

It’s enough to make his high fall slightly, with concern as the kid gingerly eases his way out of the store, but all in all, it's easy enough to push out of his mind. Kids get into fights all the time, and if its a domestic situation, he'll keep an eye out. 

  
****  


The problem is. 

The kid refuses to disappear. Every single time Leonard is out and about, which to be fair isn't really that often; there is plaid and sweater vests in the corner of his eye. Always sporting some new bruise or ache it looks like too. Once there was even a distinct handprint cupping the boys jaw, bruised into the pale flesh. That was the first time the super villain actually said anything, gritting his teeth and placing his milk and cereal on the conveyor belt with far more force than warranted. 

“Kid, if you like being hit around that much, go into wrestling. Least then you'll have a chance to fight back.” His words are said firmly, not cruelly, but the kid still flinches, goes wide eyed and practically runs out of the convenience store. Len doesn't blame him, abuse is never easy to hear acknowledged. 

  
****  


“I'm serious, kid. Look at yourself.” This time, it's a shallow but still bleeding cut on the young man's forehead. The red staining the pretty, freckled skin is more than a little disturbing, and in his hands are a few different first aid items. Probably refilling a stockpile. Wondering how often he makes trips like this only increases Leonard's desire to ice something, so instead he sighs, calmly moves back the divider and gestures the skinny boy to put his items up on the belt. “It's on me, let me help you patch yourself up.” 

The dinner he planned with Lisa and Mick seemed so unimportant now. It's not like the Flash is going to stop kicking their ass. A pity party is not welcome right at the moment. The boy just stares at him, something akin to confusion in his eyes before nodding, putting the items directly behind Leonard's own. 

“Uh… you don't actually have to, you know… it will heal up on it's own. I just… this is for a friend? You said it before, but, uh, I'm really not being…” Len snorts, easily cutting off the rest of the boys remark.

“Sure. You just…? Ran into a doorknob? Fell down the stairs? Trust me kid, no one actually believes those stories any more than you do. Come on.” Finishing paying the cashier, he quickly gathers the items into his arms, stepping away and expecting the kid to follow. 

He does. 

  
****  


“So, am i ever gonna get a name from you?” It's two weeks since the last time, the awkward bandaging, with Leonard's hands cupping the boy’s face, the soft breaths against the skin of his wrists; but the kids looking better today, moving easily and clean from any fresh bruises along his face. Still in those damn layers, making it impossible to see if its an act or if the kids is actually okay under all that fabric. 

“uh?” Articulate, isn't he? Patiently, the older man waits, the line moving disgustingly slowly. It takes another moment, but then… “Barry. Barry Allen.” 

It's a nice name, and Leonard nods. “Leonard Snart.” 

Barry smiles, a little nervously, a little shyly and shakes the hand Len holds out. He also insists on paying for all of Len’s stuff. 

  
****  


This is quickly becoming a problem. It's been a few months of constantly running into Barry Allen, seeing bruises bloom across his skin and frankly, enough is enough. Except for the first few times, he's been willing to leave it alone, only offering his help with bandaging and smearing bruise cream across his face, but today…

There's a heavy looking splint on his arm, pathetically hindering his attempts to load up on high carb treats. A few people, used to him by now, snort and shake their heads at the fumbling, before turning back to their own needs. Leonard is the only one who steps closer, automatically steadying the precarious pile in Barry's good arm. 

“Hi, Leonard!” Len allows himself to smile, after the first few times, Barry seemed to stop trying to come up with nicknames, sticking to a simple ‘Leonard’ eventually. But just as quickly as he smiled, he frowns.  

“Hey Barry. Looking a bit worse for the wear, huh?” he gestures to the splint, hovering his fingers over the material for a moment and looking at the younger male for permission. When no protest comes, he gently takes hold of the limb, looking critically at the wrapping. “You know… whoever did this to you. They're a waste of space. You know? You shouldn't stick around with them, kid. It's not right.” 

Even reminding himself to be gentle doesn't help, as his fingers tighten with reflexive anger. Anger at his father, at himself, at the person hurting Barry, and even Barry himself, for allowing himself to be so repeatedly hurt. The kids a treasure, based purely on the few minutes each week they bump into each other. He's kind, helpful, and all together too good for words, though there is a stubborn, rebellious streak. He'd… he'd make a good Rouge, maybe. Mick would tell him to get his head out of his ass, and Lisa would snort and ask what his superpower was, but they'd both fall in support of him soon enough. 

Barry hisses, gently removing his hurt arm from Len’s grasp.

“You… you don't really get him. He's… he's trying to make himself better, but he needs me, I think, to take the edge off?” He's wincing by the end of it, clearly seeing Len’s incredulous face. “I'm serious! There's good in him! He… he just doesn't see it, isn't quite sure how to be good.”

Flash had said something similar to him, once. Weeks ago now, but the same hopeful tone the kid is now sporting. His hazel eyes are wide, pleading, and it's all too easy to see him pleading for something else, rather than mercy on this unknown dick. Further proof he's not a nice man, how easily he can fantasize about destroying the one hurting Barry, and then coming to kiss the younger man better. His stomach twists, shaking his head. 

>p>“Kid, look at me. Nothing good is going to come of this. If you need someplace to go, money, I can look out for you. Hear me? You have to look out for yourself, allow no one to hurt you, not like this.” By the end, his voice is gruffer than he's going to admit to, making Barry look at him for a long minute before he's  striding away, his sweater being pulled a little tighter against the past.

  
****  


Kid's gonna be the death of him. 

A month after the broken arm, and he's nowhere to be found. Despite himself, Len is worried now. The kids sweet, and if he finds out who been hurting him…

“Len.” Mick knows somethings up, has felt it in the very air around his old friend, crackling moments of red hot rage and worry. He hasn't pushed, not until now, when Len looks halfway to manic, halfway to tearing down the city. He hasn't been this uptight since the senior Snart had snatched Lisa. 

The simple word is only enough to catch the criminal’s attention for a moment, cool blue eye looking up harshly.

“What's going on? Anything to do with your stray?” Bingo. Len may think himself the mastermind behind their heists, and he is, but Mick is the mastermind behind the people. They aren't machines, most of em have enough fire he can work with them, where very few people possess the same ice-soul Len does. Mick nods quietly, hefting himself to his feet and settling the heat gun into its holster. 

“I'm just peachy.” There's a growl in there, shifting glaciers grinding behind his teeth. It's a warning Micks heard before, normally right before there a gun, cold or otherwise, aimed at his head. It says to back down, back off,  stop whatever he's doing to piss the other off. Mick, of course, does not heed the warning.

“Sure. That's why you're acting like a mama bear who lost her cub.” And there it is, the cold gun nearly touching his nose. Mick hums, letting his hands rise and gently move the gun away, unsurprised when Len lets him. Always has to do things the hard way. But, down deep enough the bottle can’t touch, Len needs it, needs a little push here and there. 

“He's… gone. Haven't seen him in a month.” Flash’s been lying low too, last week his entire plan had to change, as the speedster failed to show. Mick nods slowly, prompting. “He was pretty roughed up, the last i saw.”

From that point on, Len would only get more vague, so the pyromaniac nods and turns. “Name?” he calls over his burn scarred shoulder, already pressing the speed dial for Hartley.

“Barry. Barry Allen.” Across the room, Mick freezes, quickly ending the call with Hartley and going after Lisa’s number. Only Len, would be pining after both the Flash and some kid, and not know they're the same person. He chuckles to himself, realizing that all the times Len’s come home with cold food and complaining about abusive dicks, _Len_ was the one causing the bruises that had him in such a tizzy. Lisa's gonna have a field day with this one.

  
****  


“And, why _exactly_ are we here?” From the backseat, Len growls lowly, eyeing than half destroyed Star Labs critically. To be fair, they deserve that look, but Lisa still cheerfully pulls Len free from the car. 

“We told you, your mysterious hunny bunny works here, and I got Cisco's permission to drop by so you can see he's alright with your own two eyes.” Lisa's smirking, her familiar predatory walk coming out as she gets closer to her own ‘hunny bunny’. 

Len just snorts, shaking his head inelegantly to cover his fond smile. He’d be worried for the poor kid, if he hadn't already show remarkable willpower dealing with his sister. As it was, there's only so much worry a man could hold, and most of it was already firmly focused on one Barry Allen. One Barry Allen who was, as usual, looking more than a little beat up once they entered what looks like the main lab. 

“Len!?” Barry's voice was the first to be heard, yelping across the empty space as Len quickly draws closer. The others, while he tracks their location with paranoid accuracy, are unimportant, and he allows his focus to narrow quickly down to the man in front of him. He's not afraid, doesn't flinch at the hand Len slowly raises, gently poking at the shallow cut on his cheek, the bruise on his left temple. If anything, Barry leans into the contact, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing with a furious shiver. 

“Where's your first aid kit?” It's a whole hell of a lot easier to ask practical questions, instead of demanding where Barry disappeared off to for a month; than Len thought it would be. He guides the kid into nearby chair, hand skilled in violence as well as healing tilting the brunette’s head this way and that. It's only after Barry has been properly doctored that Len turns quickly to the others in the room. 

“So.” Cisco breaks first, of course he does, blushing fiercely under Len’s equally fierce glare. 

“Hey, we wanted him to stop seeing him. He, he just refused!” Cisco defends himself hurriedly, pointing a finger at Barry, who predictably looks both confused and betrayed. 

“Cisco…” The Doctor says reproachfully, but he plows on ahead anyway.

“I mean, we've all seen how he comes back. After they fight? Like a Walking Dead extra. But Barry keeps saying how good he is, how truly kind he is. I don't see it man.” He shakes his head, curls bouncing along his shoulder as Lisa walks up to him, enveloping him with her arms. He settles, leaning into her as she gently presses a soothing kiss to his neck. Len can't help but roll his eyes, the PDA exasperating as well as familiar. Everyone knows Cisco is hers, but she doesn't stop underlining it whenever they're in the same space. 

“Cisco, it's not like that!” Barry, of course he is, automatically goes to defend the no good bastard that does this to him, shaking his head gently. His eyes, when they dart to Leonard are vaguely pleading, begging him not to believe Cisco. That's just too bad. Len believed Cisco before he even met Cisco. And, when he finds out who is harming the sweet young man, he's going to ice them. 

“Kid.” Barry had continued to babble, but broke off at Len’s quiet voice. “Listen to me. Whoever did this to you? Is a low down dirty bastard. Who shouldn't be allowed to kiss you shoes, much less touch any other part of you. Take care of yourself, got me?” 

Barry's stunned. That may just be a good thing, because Len stares hard at him until he nods. Only then does the villian nod firmly in reply and jerk his head toward the door, turning sharply so his coat flares along his sides. “Let's go.”

  
****  


It's gotta be the cop. The pretty boy cop. Len knows all too well what happens when protective urges sour, turn violent. And it's not like he doesn't remember his own abusive cop. But the thing is… he's never _seen_ pretty cop make a move on Barry. Affectionate or otherwise. 

Still. He's the closest to Barry, and more often than not, Barry hangs out with him during breaks at work, sitting suspiciously close on the couch, sharing leg room like there's not another loveseat ten feet away. And they do small, coupley things together, bringing one or the other coffee, little things to ease the others day. Once, Barry even brought the other man flowers, only for pretty cop to turn and give them to some beautiful woman a few businesses down. Was pretty cop cheating on Barry as well? Or just didn't like the flowers? 

Len itches to ice the bastard already, but, he doesn't know for sure yet. And, while he's silently watching the two, he gets a small insight into what Barry Allen likes. 

Brownies, is one. There seems to be a constant appearance of them on his work desk, though Len does not follow the kid home… yet. Coffee, extra sweet and creamy, as he chanced by just as pretty cop was fixing a cup for himself and Barry, complaining about how sweet he made it. Lady Gaga. Anime. Science gear. _Lots_ of pizza, seriously where does he put it all? A surprising array of books and comic books. 

It shouldn't be a surprise then, when Barry smiles that wide, open grin the next time they meet and Len silently hands him a perfectly done coffee. It shouldn't. But it was. It squeezed his chest like something living, and it his ribs creaked anxiously under the pressure. Thankfully, Barry was soon too absorbed in drinking the coffee flavored sugar to keep his beaming eyes on Len. 

As a first test. It went well, really. Really. Well. 

  
****  


No. This… Len took a deep breath, frozen to the pavement outside the convenience store he normally saw Barry. Barry, who currently was sitting unhappily in a wheelchair, his entire back strapped to something metal and uncomfortable looking. There's the customary bruises along his face, Lens almost used to those, but the back brace… no. It looks like… like pretty cop actually did something that sunshine personified Barry, his Barry, couldn't recover from. His chest tightens, even more so than when Barry smiles at him. It physically hurts, this clawing worry raking needle sharp claws around his chest.

Something is going to be done. Tonight. Barry clearly might not make it another. 

“Lisa. Bring the van, you know the store.” As predictable as he is, he only visits a select number of establishments, and only a few have anything that make his voice as tense as it is. Lisa will know.

And she does, pulling in a few minutes later. Swift enough to ensure she broke _some_ traffic laws at the very least. Right now, he doesn't care. Laying low can be done later. 

Right now, he had a foolish kid to save.

  
****  


Barry surprisingly doesn't struggle much, when a cloth goes over his head, or when Len pushes the wheelchair into the back of his van, sitting next to the kid with a careful hand on the chair. Like hell will the kid be scared or thrown around on his watch. Lisa is even driving carefully, braking for stop signs and keeping below the speed limit. It's almost scary how calm the man in the wheelchair is, still and quiet, barely breathing. Is… this can't be normal, and Len has to stop himself from offering words or touch. Just for now, until they're at a safe house, and can ensure there's nothing listening in on them. 

Barry remains quiet, right up until Len carefully removes the hood over his face, frowning and quickly looking around. 

“Len?” he questions, head tilted. “What…?”

“Enough is enough, kid.” Len cuts him off, one hand held up to stop whatever Barry was going to say. He's in his full Captain Cold regalia, furred hood down to the cold gun holstered at his hip. It's time Barry knew exactly who he had been hanging around, and there's nothing like proof staring you in the face. “I've had enough of you allowing who the fuck ever to slap you around. It's not right, whoever is doing this…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Is it pretty boy? The cop you're always hanging out with? Because if he is…” the threat trails menacingly off.

Still, the boy is silent, looking slightly stunned, like someone hit him over the head with a baseball bat. Had someone hit him over the head with a baseball bat?

“Look, kid, I know you think there's something wonderful about him you _just have_ to stick around for. But trust me, crooked cops are never gonna fly straight, so you can just settle down with us for a few days. Just enough so I can find the bastard who did this to you and--"

“Holy shit.” The awed words stops Captain Cold in his tracks, lifting an eyebrow. He’d just been ranting from habit, old anger mixing with the fresh, but if Barry had been listening, if he had been getting through…“I like you.” 

That was exactly what he was not expecting to hear, eyes widening slightly to Lisa’s and Mick's amused chuckles. They're behind Barry, closer to the exit, with a perfect view of how shocked the normally unflappable man was. 

“No. You can't. You aren't going from one bastard to another, Barry. I'll watch out for you, but you're confused right now and--" and nothing. There was a flash of lightning, and somehow the boy, still in the wheelchair, was in front of him. Lifting himself with his arms to press an open mouthed kiss to the shocked still lips of one Leonard Snart.

“I. Like. You. Stay right here! I have to make Cisco let me out of this thing but I will be right back! Stay!” He's already gone, flickers of lightning following the chair as his arms blur at superspeed. 

Len, to the endless amusement of Mick and his sister, slowly raises one hand to his lips, static electricity still stinging as he absorbs it the information.

“Barry Allen is... the Flash.”


End file.
